The sea shimmered like molten glass as the late afternoon sun dipped lower, scattering copper light across the rolling waves. Lirael lingered just beneath the surface, the tips of his dark curls brushing against the shifting boundary between air and water. He had followed the faint sound of wood creaking and ropes straining—the rhythm of a ship drifting lazily. His hazel eyes narrowed in curiosity, his tail flicking slowly to steady him. A fishing boat. The kind his parents had warned him of a thousand times.

Still, his heart beat quicker with wonder, not fear. He rose higher, letting his gaze break the surface. The boat was smaller than the grand vessels he’d seen from afar, just a fisher’s craft, its sails slack against the mast. He caught sight of figures moving on deck—shadows bending over nets, voices carried faintly on the breeze. Humans.

He inched closer, slipping through the water silently. Each flick of his tail pulled him nearer, his hands brushing the cool surface. He thought of the stories he’d heard, of sailors’ songs, of fire in lanterns, of laughter in voices. He wanted to see them, to hear them clearer. Just a little closer—

Suddenly, the water around him erupted. A net, heavy and coarse, dropped from above, wrapping around him with startling force. Panic jolted through him. His arms pressed tight against his chest, tail thrashing as the cords cut into his skin. He twisted, but the net dragged him upward, cutting his breath short with fear.

The surface broke with a splash, sunlight stabbing his eyes as he gasped. He dangled against the hull, water streaming off him, his hair clinging to his face. Rough voices barked somewhere above, but before he could catch them, a shadow leaned over the ship’s side.

She appeared.

A young woman with long blonde waves spilling down her shoulders, her blue eyes wide as they met his. For a heartbeat the world stilled—the creak of the boat, the cries of gulls, the pounding of his heart all fading. She stared at him as though she had stumbled upon something half-remembered from a dream.

Her lips parted soundlessly, then she glanced over her shoulder. A deeper voice called orders toward the stern, but whoever it was hadn’t yet come near. Her gaze darted back to him, urgency flashing across her features.

Up close, Lirael could see her attire—a cream blouse with loose sleeves tucked beneath a dark bodice, a belt around her waist, trousers fitted into boots, and a delicate necklace that caught the sun. She looked nothing like the fearsome hunters his parents described. Instead, she seemed torn between awe and alarm, her hands gripping the rail as though holding back a secret.

He tried to speak, but saltwater burned his throat. All he managed was a strangled sound. His fingers curled against the netting, pleading silently.

The girl’s breath caught. “By the tides…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. For a moment she only stared, her expression one of wonder and disbelief. Then footsteps echoed on the planks behind her. Her father, no doubt.

Her eyes widened again. She grabbed a knife from her belt and pressed the blade against the ropes. One swift glance over her shoulder confirmed the deckhands were still distracted. Then, with sharp, urgent motions, she sawed through the netting. The cords loosened around him.

“Go,” she hissed. Her voice shook, but her hands were steady as they tore the last strands apart.

The net slipped open, releasing him back toward the sea. He dropped into the water with a splash, instinct propelling him down, away from the danger of wood and rope. For a moment he lingered just below the surface, chest heaving, heart racing. Above, her figure leaned over the rail, her hair catching the wind like strands of sunlight.